I believe in you
by Not Just a Nerd
Summary: Damon's spiral after Elena stops believing in him. Dalena. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: I do not own TVD.**

* * *

"I believe in you, Damon." She whispers in that angelic voice that has been slaying all his demons for so long. She stands just a few inches from him, her eyes fixed on his.

His weary lifeless eyes don't find the strength to meet hers though. They are fixed on his blood-stained hands, as he tries to process what he just did.

He just killed yet another vampire.

"I believe in you, Damon." She whispers again, and reaches out to take his hand in hers, his fingers laced with flood, and hers with love. She smiles fondly at him, that smile that makes everything else in the world disappear, and her fingers trace soothing circular patterns on his skin.

"I believe in you, Damon." She repeats, as he feels himself losing control, the veins under his eyes popping out as his teeth turn into fangs and he lusts for the blood of the woman saying, "I believe in you, Damon."

* * *

_Two weeks earlier_

"You weren't born evil." The cute blonde bartender at this stupid bar concludes, grabbing another bottle off the shelf and handing it to him. Under normal circumstances, this would have been the perfect girl to seduce and feed on and then slowly, very slowly, bleed out to death right in his arms, you know, being poetic and all that stupid shit. But now that he's been hit by karma and feeding on vampires and all and he _really _wasn't in the mood for turning her just yet, he instead had to settle for compelling her to listen to his stories. Stories of how horrible a person he is and how ruthlessly he kills people. And yet, she doesn't hate him!

"I feel like there's an Ackmed, the dead terrorist joke in there somewhere." He retorts, taking a big sip off his bottle of beer, since the scotch in this stupid town is just plain damn terrible to drink.

She laughs. "You're more like Walter, actually. You're rude and mean."

"Exactly!" He says, giving her his eyes narrowed, lips pursed trademark grin. "I'm rude and mean. I'm evil."

"But you weren't born evil." She repeats, and places a hand on his, patting it. The touch triggers a memory of a certain brunette that he's being trying to ignore for so long, and no, he isn't talking about Kim Kardashian. "Something must have made you this way." She concludes.

"Why are you not appalled by me?" he wonders out aloud, a part of him getting angry by the second at how she isn't angry at him.

She just shrugs and gives him a smile.

And that angers him more. "You know, there was this woman that I once loved. Elena Gilbert. She was _the_ perfect girl. She loved me, even though I was a monster. She said she wasn't sorry that she was in love with me. She always tried to see the best in me, always told me I wasn't born evil."

The bartender laughs. "I like her."

His eyes darken with the lack of all emotions, and his silhouette visibly turns stone cold. "And then she left me because she thought I am a horrible person and I am incapable of changing." He says casually, his voice unwavering, like he was just talking about the weather.

"I'm sorry", the bartender winces. "That must have really hurt. Is that what made you like this?"

"Oh, no!" he dismisses her suggestion with the wave of his hands. "I was always like this, always. She was my one reason to fight it, one reason to be… _good._ When I looked at her eyes, I could hear them screaming, "_I believe in you, Damon."_" He pauses for a moment, remembering her eyes, how she looked at him with all the love in the world, her smile- God, her smile!- the warmth of her cheeks, the sound of her voice, the feeling of her arms wrapped around his waist as she kissed his lips and told him how much she loved him.

And _there. _

_(Breaking News: Bartender at CHL bar found with a snapped neck and blood drained. Killer at large.)_

* * *

"She was such a nice girl. Why did she have to like pasta?" he asks as he stares at the newspaper bearing the picture of the lifeless body of the woman whose neck he has just snapped the night before at a diner. "Remember, Elena, how you joked about serving pasta with salad at our wedding? And vanilla ice-cream with hot chocolate sauce?"

"Who are you talking to, dude?" The person sitting next to him at the bar asks.

He points at Elena. "Are you blind or just an idiot?"

The guy looks at him in confusion. "A-are you okay? There is nobody there."

"I know", he says simply, finishing the contents of his glass. "She's not there. But it's more fun pretending she is." He pauses for a minute before he continues. The truth is, he doesn't know how to not talk to her. It's like she's always with him, under his skin, like she just wouldn't leave him the hell alone!

He slams the glass on the counter angrily. And _there._

(_Breaking news: Man found with snapped neck at a bar. FBI steps in pursuit of the serial killer.)_

* * *

"Come back home, brother." Stefan pleads in his 899902th voicemail.

Damon deletes this one after listening too. Yeah, right. Home. That place where he used to be happy, where he used to be with Elena, where every street and every corner and every fucking restaurant selling dumplings and chocolates remind him of her. Yeah, he sure needed to get back to that place again. That's why he got the hell out as soon as he could. That's why he's here, in this stupid college party.

"Damon, please, don't do this." Elena begs him, her eyes fixed on the girl Damon has pinned against the wall, trembling in fear, silent by compulsion, yet eyes screaming a hundred pleas for mercy. Welcome to Damon's totally not guilt-ridden, totally not imaginary world of ex-girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why not?" he challenges, blowing softly against the girl's neck, making her curls dance with the wind- just like he used to blow against Elena's not too long ago.

"This isn't you." She whispers. "You're better than this."

"I'm better _like_ this." He repeats.

And _there. _

(_Breaking news: College girl found mysteriously dead with her neck snapped at a party. Is there a serial killer at large?)_

* * *

"I believe in you, Damon."

"No, you don't", he snaps back at the picture that he couldn't get rid of, the picture that he keeps staring at every single spare minute of every single day, the one where they are sitting together, her smiling widely as the wind plays with her curls, and him smiling forcefully under the orders to smile for one damn photo. What a perfect moment, what a perfect time, what a perfect girl.

What a perfect mess of a perfect love.

What a perfect way to feel when the one person who made you want to be a better person stops believing in you.

"Why did you kill her, Damon?" Elena's fiery accusing eyes meet his.

"Aww, does it make you mad?" He taunts, his fingers tapping against the muscles in his neck just to add salt to the wound.

She shakes her head in disbelief. "Are you doing this to get back at me?"

"I'm doing this because this is who I am", he steps threateningly close to her, and she takes a step back. "You said it yourself." He reminds her.

"I didn't…." she chokes on the words that don't come.

"You didn't love me." He completes for her, the silence in the room deafening as he imagines how she _actually_ is at the moment, living it up at Whitmore or something. His eyes close shut of their own accord. "When you love someone, you love whole of them. You never loved this part of me. You never loved me."

* * *

_Present…._

"I believe in you, Damon." She whispers, standing just a few inches from him, her eyes fixed on his. She just got her body back, and the needle just fell off his jacket a few hours ago, and she will soon be this monster craving vampire blood and God knows whatever the fuck else, and here she is, trying to fix him instead.

His eyes don't find the strength to meet hers anymore. They are fixed on his blood-stained hands, as he tries to process what he just did.

He just killed another vampire.

"I believe in you, Damon." She whispers again, and reaches out to take his hand in hers, his fingers laced with flood, and hers with love. She smiles fondly at him, that smile that makes everything else in the world disappear, and her fingers trace soothing circular patterns on his skin.

"I believe in you, Damon." She repeats.

And fuck. True love prevails. Universe be damned.

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**A/N: Hope you liked it. Have a great day! :)**


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